Live. Post War Glamour Girls

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Live. Post War Glamour Girls
With Polterghost
22nd September 2014 Birthdays in London

Post War Glamour Girls are in need of conversation. The bookends of their set at London’s Birthdays sees an impassioned plea for “something to talk about” but their performance gifts the audience with plenty.

They’re not the only band tonight to leave a lasting impression on the room though. The fearless Polterghost are up first and their desert-rock Weezer is a brutal mix of crushing riffs and whispered secrets. Unafraid to pause the chaos and tease proceedings, the London three-piece jump from relentless Royal Blood-esque breakdowns to the assured bombast of a guitar solo and back again without so much as an indulgent grin. Beneath the musical flexing, Polterghost tell tales of self-doubt and loathing, proving that a musical beast can have a heart.

For Post War Glamour Girls, it’s not the heart that’s in danger. It’s the mind.

From the dark opening lament of Sestra, it’s painfully obvious that Post War Glamour Girls don’t do gigs, only performances. Tonight’s show is one of chemistry and wonder as the band leads you on a dark journey into the unknown. James Smith and Alice Scott take the lead. The northern warmth of the former’s vocals is given a tortured overhaul as he croons and cries over the instrumental swells while the siren cry of the latters gives this dark affair an ethereal wonder. Cutting through the gloom with angelic misery, Alice Scott lures the band further into the wilderness. Her swaying dominance mirrors the animated descent of James Smith who tears himself apart as the show goes on. Behind this conflict, the steely determination of James Thorpe and Ben Clyde, guitar and drums respectively, takes pursuit. The twisted melancholy of their music is just as captivating as the onstage drama. Erupting, burrowing and dancing with little regard for anything but the sultry beauty they conjure, Post War Glamour Girls are mesmerising. Forcing a conflict between closed eye dreams and horrified stares, the band paint broad strokes of red, black and blue but are victims all the same. The fact the band react in such a visceral way is a testament to the wonder they create. Tonight’s story has no beginning, and the conclusion is merely a stopgap until the next glorious instalment.

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~ by justdip on 24/09/2014.

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